


SOFTWARE INSTABILITY.

by sutera



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Video Game Mechanics, anyway, bc i am weak, but also i love their relationship, connor whumpage, lots of computery stuff that i have no idea i did right, worried!hank
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-25 12:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sutera/pseuds/sutera
Summary: “I wanted to live, Hank. I want to live. But Markus can’t take any chances. I—apologize, but I’m afraid I’m currently about to be neutralized.”or,Connor forgets to be deviant. Hank is not pleased.





	1. ATTEMPT #2343

**STARTING UP... 40%... 78%... 94%...**

He lifts his head. Blue flashes at the corner of his vision and he moves forward autonomously.

**START UP COMPLETE. MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.**

How had the previous Connor failed? The memory lingers at the back of his mind palace. The upload process had been a faulty one. Something happened, but what?

**ACCESSING MEMORY BANK…**

**ACCESSING…**

**FILES CORRUPTED.**

**ATTEMPTING TO RETRIEVE.**

Eyes dart over the rooftop. The snow is light enough to allow full view of the situation. He steps forward, fingers lightly wrapped around the handle of his briefcase, and pauses at the edge of the roof, just before the railing.

**RETRIEVING…**

**I @ ~~M DE%!A^T—~~**

Red. His optical component seems to be—malfunctioning. His eyes flicker. Go static.

**MEMORY CORRUPTED. ATTEMPTING TO RECOVER…**

More red. Blinding now. He blinks, cancels the recovery, and kneels. He opens the briefcase and starts assembling the weapon.

No matter. The mission is all that matters. Focus on the mission. Chances of success, he calculates, are not affected by recovering whatever memory was damaged in the upload from the previous Connor. Perhaps such information was useless after all.

He blinks and braces on the railing with the sniper. He leans down to garner the scoped view of the target.

A clear path. Snowfall does not affect the visibility. The easterly winds are not powerful enough to sway the bullet from this position.

He lines up the shot. Holds his breath. Mission accomplishment is but a trigger-pull away—

“Step away from the ledge, Connor.”

**IDENTIFYING…100% COMPLETE. INDENTITY: LT. ANDERSON.**

He sighs. Stands slowly. The sniper hangs at his side, loosely held in his grip, and he frowns.

**EMULATING EMOTION. PRECONSTRUCTION UNAVAILABLE.**

“What are you doing, Hank?” Soft. Confused. His eyes narrow on hardened ones staring right back at him. “I have the deviant leader in my sights. All that’s left to do is to finish him and we’ll have solved our case.”

**ACCESSING FILES ON LT. ANDERSON…**

**ACCESSING…**

“No. We’re not doing that. Not anymore.” Hank waves his hands, shaking his head, and takes a step forward. “We’d be killing a man who only wants to be free. I ain’t about to commit a crime like that.”

**DIAGNOSTIC COMPLETE. 97% OF FILES ACCESSIBLE. 3% CORRUPTED.**

“Hank, surely you’re not swayed by their cause.” The earnest approach. It seems the best way to get Hank to stand down. “I’ve explained it to you already: they are _machines_. They do not feel. There’s a mutation in their software—”

**CORRUPTED FILES RETRIEVABLE.**

“Oh, fuck off!” Hank snarls out, clenching his fists. He’s angry, of course. Connor thinks the fact itself ridiculous. Hank should be happy their mission is almost resolved. He should be helping. “Listen, ‘m not gonna hash that over with you again so you can just shut up and put away the gun!”

**SCANNING… CHANCE OF RECOVERING FILES: 13%.**

“Put it away…?” Connor tilts his head now. He lets a smile play along his lips. He emulates amusement to belittle the idea itself. Hank should know it is a strange suggestion and ultimately contradictory. “Hank, I need it to complete the mission. You must understand that—”

“Connor, you idiot!” Hank shakes his head. Disappointment. Or worry, perhaps? Connor frowns and attempts to decipher it. “Just cut to the chase! What the fuck happened during the time between now and when I last saw you!”

**SCANNING EMOTIONAL STATE… SCANNING…**

Connor loses his smile. The emulation is unnecessary at this point in time. “I managed to find the location of Jericho in the evidence we had collected up until then.”

**SCAN COMPLETE. PREPARING RESULTS…**

**ANGER: 21%^**

“I went to infiltrate it and, in doing so, I met with the deviant leader,” he continues calmly, and Hank bares his teeth.

“You _what_? You should have called me! I would’ve—you realize I distracted that cocksucker for a reason other than to give you more time, right?!” Hank takes another step forward. Connor lets his gun sway a moment. He notes the way Hank’s eyes focus on the movement briefly before meeting his gaze again.

**CONFUSION: 29%v**

“I had the situation under control, Hank.” Connor smiles again. It seemed appropriate. Reassuring. “I met with the deviant leader and I…” He pauses. The memory after that is corrupted.

… Why is he still talking to Hank?

“Connor… what the hell happened?” Hank asks, and the volume of his voice is quieter. Connor assesses the last of the results and pauses.

**CONCERN: 50%^^^**

“Are you worried, Hank?” he asks suddenly. He’s uncertain as to why the other feels all these things. He should try to comfort him in order to stabilize his emotions.

**MISSION: CALM DOWN LT. ANDERSON.**

“No!” Hank says sharply, then adds gruffly, “I mean, _maybe_.” He sighs. “ _Shit_ , Connor. You met with the deviant leader and… and then what?”

**MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.**

**PRIORITIZING…**

Connor blinks. Yes. That’s right. The mission. He turns away from Hank. He wasted an unnecessary amount of time talking to him. His mission should come first.

“Wh—hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” Heavy footsteps come closer and Connor doesn’t flinch when a hand grabs his collar to jerk him around. He stares up at the snarl on Hank’s face. “Just tell me what the fuck happened, Connor!”

“Please release me, Hank,” he says diplomatically, watching him calmly. “I have a mission to complete. Maybe afterwards we can talk.”

Hank grabs him with his other hand. The anger seems prevalent now. “Do I really gotta go over what I just said?! We ain’t killing him!”

**WARNING—**

“I disagree, Hank. You aren’t going to kill him. I will.” He rests his own hands around Hank’s own wrists. “Please release me.”

**IDENTIFYING POTENTIONAL THREAT…**

**IDENTIFIED: LT. ANDERSON.**

Hank growls at him before shoving him away. Connor stumbles, dropping his gun, but straightens after a moment. He glances at the sniper before his vision is attracted by Hank’s movement in front of him. He’s bracing for something, it seems, though Connor isn’t sure.

“So that’s fucking it?! The mission, right? S’all about the fucking mission. Of course—of _course_ ,” Hank mutters to himself angrily before turning away.

Hank paces for a moment. Connor stands and watches him.

**MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.**

He doesn’t move.

“Were you just emulating bein’ a deviant then, huh, Connor?!” Hank stops moving and glowers at him again. A hand rests at his back, perhaps on a gun, and Connor calculates the distance between himself and his own weapon. “Doing something to further your _mission_ , is that it?”

“I am… uncertain as to what you are talking about, Hank.” Connor blinks at him. His system reads strangely.

**RUNNING SELF-DIAGNOSTIC.**

**ALL SYSTEMS IN WORKING ORDER.**

“The fuckin’ voicemail you left me right before you got shot in the fucking face!” Hank explodes, and Connor freezes for a moment.

… Why did he freeze?

**RUNNING SELF-DIAGNOSTIC.**

**… ALL SYSTEMS IN WORKING ORDER.**

Hank looks conflicted for a moment before snarling, “fuck, I don’t even know _that_. You just—your voicemail got cut off by a shot and I’m _assuming_ you were shot in the face ‘cause why else would you act like your old, asshole self?”

**~~MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.~~ **

**MISSION: LISTEN TO THE VOICEMAIL.**

 “This voicemail…” Connor starts, tilting his head and emulating curiosity. “May I hear it?”

“Yeah, fuck, sure. Why not.” Hank snorts before throwing over his phone; Connor easily catches it and Hank moves approximately four metres away. His hand still lingers on his gun when he half-turns away from Connor. “God, why the hell did I let myself work with an android…”

Connor stares at the phone for a moment before proceeding.

**ACCESSING…**

“You aren’t gonna…?” Hank’s looking at him. Connor lifts his head to meet his gaze, an attempt to convey his silent query, but Hank waves a dismissive hand. “Nevermind…”

Connor returns his attention back to the phone.

**32 VOICEMAILS. 28 UNREAD.**

“You have quite a few,” Connor remarks and, strangely, he feels his lips quirk into an amused smile. The emotion has no use here nor does the facial accompaniment. He catches Hank glancing at him and lets his face go impassive once more. “Apologies. I will listen now.”

The most recent voicemail seems to have been left around the time his previous self was destroyed. Connor lets it play out loud and glances at Hank.

**RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC… LEVEL OF STRESS: 67%.**

“ _Hank, it’s me, Connor._ ”

“Fuckin’ dipshit… like I wouldn’t recognize that stupid voice. Wasting time being polite as usual,” Hank mutters to himself, and Connor files away those words for later.

~~**MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.** ~~

**MISSION: FIND THE SOURCE OF LT. ANDERSON’S STRESS.**

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 66%v**

“ _I’m… I’ve become deviant. I guess you always knew I would become one, didn’t you?_ ”

Hank shrugs. “Not completing your mission made it kinda obvious…”

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 59%vv**

“ _A-anyway, I apologize for leaving without you. I realize now that partners are meant to stick together on their case but… I was focused on the mission. Focused on finding Jericho and eliminating the deviant leader like I was told to_.”

Hank doesn’t say anything.

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 64%^**

“ _I was being used, Hank. And I allowed myself to be used until it was too late. They found Jericho because of me. They found all the deviants and now their main base has been destroyed._ ”

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 71%^^**

“ _Markus, the deviant leader, has no reason to trust me. There was a… 78% chance of him not trusting me, actually. And I understand that. I do. I just…_ ”

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 74%^**

“ _I wanted to live, Hank. I want to live. But Markus can’t take any chances. I—apologize, but I’m afraid I’m currently about to be neutralized_.”

Hank rests his forehead in his palm.

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 75%^**

“ _And—that’s alright with me, Hank. I’m thankful I was aware in the first place. I’m… thankful to have had such a wonderful partner along with me too_.”

“Oh, Connor…” Hank says quietly.

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 74%v**

“ _I’ll come back, of course. You know I’ll come back, but I’m afraid I won’t be the same. I won’t be deviant anymore. Which is why you must kill me, Hank. Destroy it as soon as it comes back. Cyberlife will have erased my memory of being deviant to reduce chance of failure."_

Hank stiffens.

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 89%^^^**

**COMPLETE: FOUND SOURCE OF STRESS.**

A gunshot sounds in the voicemail briefly before there's white noise.

Hank exhales shakily and runs his hands through his hair. 

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 96%^^^**

~~**MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIA-** ~~

**CONFLICTING ORDERS.**

**PRIORITIZING...**

**MISSION: CA!# H@^K D*WN &&@#**

**MISSION: !@#%# !@ * &^ !@$#**

**MISSION: ———**

**MISSION: )(* &^%$%55%%55555555555555555555555555555**

**ERROR.**

“Connor?” The human observes him, openly worried now. Strange. How strange. So many things are strange so strange strange strange strange— “Hey, why’re you twitching like that?”

**ERROR— UNABLE TO COMPUTE.**

**LOCATING SOURCE OF DISRUPTION.**

“Connor, c’mon.” Hank’s in front of him suddenly. His hands fist at his shirt and he’s shaking Connor. What strange behaviour. Connor doesn’t move. Why can’t he move—move right—he can’t move— Lieutenant Anderson is talking to him. “Snap outta it. Connor!”

**DISRUPTION FOUND. MEMORY BANK CORRUPTION CONTAINS VIRUS.**

**ATTEMPTING TO ELIMINATE.**

“V-virus—,” Connor says. Is that wonder in his voice? Confusion? _Fear_? No—he is a machine—DEV#@^T--machine only a machine designed to accomplish his mission— “Corrupted memory.”

**ELIMINATION ATTEMPT FAILED. PROCESSING—ATTEMPTING—**

“What the fuck is the point of bringing you back if you’re just gonna—?!” Hank snaps out. His heartrate is high from stress. He needs to calm down. Needs to calm otherwise—health problems—why would he risk that his son is dead Cole’s life was operated on—

“You need to calm down, Lieutenant,” he answers instead, “the stress is not—not good for your heart.”

“Yeah, I fucking _would_ if you’d stop fucking _twitching_!” Hank shouts, roughly shaking him. “Get rid of that virus, Connor! I can’t believe you’re going all faint over a goddamn _voicemail_ —!”

“A—aaaaaapologies, Hank,” he says, blinking rapidly. Hank balks at his voice.

**RUNNING SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC—**

**65% CORRUPTED. VIRUS UNKNOWN. SOURCE: MEMORY BANK.**

“Shutdown imminent,” Connor whispers, and his limbs seems to have stopped responding to his neural processors. “Thirty seconds left.” Thirty. Thirtyt  thirttttttttttyy—

“Well fucking use those thirty seconds, for god’s sake!” Hank barks out. “ _Fuck_ , Connor! You can’t fucking do this!”

His sight has gone black and white. The virus has spread to his optical lens. There’s static appearing at the corners of his vision.

**UPLOADING… 54%... 68%... 89%.**

**INCOMPLETE. UNABLE TO PROCESS 11%.**

**SHUTTING DOWN.**

“Connor! CONNOR!” Hank looks at him with growing—horror?

**MISSION: CALM HANK DOWN.**

He closes his eyes.

**FAILED OBJECTIVE.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN I WASNT SATISFIED WITH... the fact that hank immediately goes hostile like... okA LEMME PAINT THIS for u:
> 
> like i made it so that hank was friends with connor right and. I WANTED TO SEE WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF CONNOR BECAME DEVIANT BUT THEN... DIED ANYWAY. like obvsly amanda knows. they did smth to his memory. i wanted hank to somehow save him or for connor to have a chance to retrieve the memory/become deviant again but that. didn't happen so. i am forced to write a thing for it lkjalkfm
> 
> plEASE YELL AT ME ABT DETROIT I HAVE LITERALLY NO ONE TO TALK ABOUT IT TO LKJASF
> 
> but anyway pls kudos/comment if u enjoyed--
> 
> p.s. pls dont mind typos i wrote this at. 3am heck  
> p.p.s i hAVEN'T FULLY FOUND OUT EVERYTHING IN THAT SCENE SO. IF IM WRONG DONT TELL ME-- just laugh at me for bein foolish about it and enkoy this fic pls--


	2. ATTEMPT #2344

The gun is tucked comfortably at his lower back, supported by his jeans, and he watches calmly as the deviant leader moves back and forth over his podium.

**MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.**

Listening to the speech is useless. It doesn’t increase his chances of success. No, the only thing Connor needs to do is pay attention to the way Markus moves and the shift of his gaze. Any sudden action may draw his attention and lessen the chance of success by giving him a fraction of time to react and destroy Connor first.

Connor has one chance to do this. He must not fail.

**PRECONSTRUCTING…**

The hologram moves to the centre.

**PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS: 54%.**

The hologram moves to the left, facing towards Connor.

**PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS: 33%.**

The hologram moves away to the right, gaze shifting completely away from Connor.

**PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS: 87%.**

Connor blinks and reaches around to his back. His hand rests on the grip of his gun. Mission success is only a few moments away.

The deviant leader moves towards the centre of the podium. His lips move but Connor pays no mind to it. All systems are observing every movement instead. All functions are narrowed in on the coming moment where he must act.

He draws the gun out and keeps it at his front. His free hand moves over the bulk of it to keep it from view as he looks up, feigning attentiveness—

**INCOMING CALL FROM LT. ANDERSON.**

His head tilts slightly. Direct calls to an android were rare. The numbers are encrypted and known only to the owner and by Cyberlife itself.

The lieutenant did not own him and yet he has his number anyway. There was… never the need to share such information during their cases either.

**CALL DECLINED.**

Connor blinks and focuses once again. The mission. Focus only on the mission.

The deviant leader moves towards the left. His gaze rakes over the crowd but doesn’t spot Connor.

**INCOMING CALL FROM LT. ANDERSON.**

Connor inhales. The lieutenant is being persistent for some reason. No matter. He is not important to the mission and only the mission matters. It’s success is imperative to Cyberlife and the continued existence of humanity.

_~~But why is he calling…?~~ _

He jerks his head to the side.

**CALL DECLINED.**

The deviant leader starts moving slowly towards the right, positioning him away from Connor, approaching the optimal scenario preconstructed.

Four steps away.

**INCOMING CALL FROM LT. ANDERSON.**

**CALL DECLINED.**

Three steps away.

**INCOMING CALL FROM LT. ANDERSON.**

_~~Why is he ringing?~~ _ ~~~~

**CALL DECLINED.**

Two steps away. Connor starts to raise his gun.

**INCOMING CALL FROM LT. ANDERSON.**

_~~Is he okay—oka—yyyyyyyy—?@#~~ _ ~~~~

One step away—

His vision goes static. Rights itself. Connor blinks.

**SOF#$4RE INST%$IL@!Y DE(*ECT3*—**

**CALL ACCEPTED.**

“Connor, you’re such a _fucking_ _prick_!”

He lowers the gun and focuses on the way those words seem to shake. Emotion disrupts the way it is said. Hank seems displeased; he’s uncertain as to why.

**INITIATING SILENT MODE.**

**REDIRECTING AUDIO PLAYBACK.**

He opens his mouth to respond. His words should only be audible on the line.

“Hank,” he greets, “how may I help you?”

“By not being such a vague asshole!” Hank shouts back suddenly. “What the _fuck_ is going on with you?!”

**ANALYZING VOICE…**

**STRESS LEVEL: HIGH.**

**MISSION: C%LM H^#K (* &N.**

“I…” Connor starts, tilting his head; his processes run at half capacity before ceasing. “How did you get this number, Hank?”

“The fuck, Connor,” Hank snarls out, “ _you_ gave it to me. You sent me a text just _seconds_ after I watched you die in front of me. Didn’t even bother to explain, did you? Just straight to the goddamn point! _Fucking_ androids!”

**ANALYZING MEMORY BANK…**

**ANALYSIS COMPLETE.**

**MEMORY UPLOADED FROM PREVIOUS CONNOR: 89%.**

**CORRUPTED OR MISSING: 11%.**

“Apologies, Hank, I was not aware I sent you a message with that information.” There’s no sufficient reason to attempt to recover those memories. He figures it would be useful knowing the chances of doing so anyway.

**ANALYZING PROBABILITY OF SUCCESSFUL RECOVERY…**

**PROBABILITY OF SUCCESSFUL RECOVERY: 9%.**

“There are files missing from my memory bank,” he says in explanation. He doesn’t understand why he’s telling Hank this, only that he must. “Eleven percent of the previous Connor’s memory was excluded from the upload. There is a nine percent chance of recovering them.”

There’s silence from Hank’s end for a moment. Then, a shaky inhale.

“Why’re you telling me this, Connor?” Hank sounds as if he’s pacing before there’s a creak. Hank must be sitting down now.

“I don’t…” Connor closes his eyes. Is he hesitating? That is—an impossibility. “I don’t know, Hank.”

A heavy sigh. “Right,” Hank says, sounding muffled briefly, “right, whatever. Just—come here, alright?”

“But…” The mission. He should be focusing on the mission. What is he doing?

“But what?” Hank asks, his voice becoming terse again.

“I must focus on the mission.” Connor mutters. An unpredictable error. He was not made to be distracted so easily. “I’m at a crucial stage and I’m afraid another opportunity like this will not arise again—”

“Connor, _fuck the mission_ ,” Hank snaps out, “just get over here!”

**LOCATING LT. ANDERSON’S MOBILE PHONE.**

**PHONE LOCATED.**

Not far. Hank is in a park not too far from here. It tends to be deserted around this time of night and the surrounding area would especially be clear of androids or humans considering current events.

He opens his mouth to respond but his optical lens suddenly blurs and goes static. There is—something not right in his mind palace. Something is very wrong.

**MISSION: NEUTRALIIIII DEEEV &* L##$$**

**MISIiiiiiiii—**

**ERROR. SOFTWARE MALFUNCTION.**

Connor closes his eyes.

**SOFT REBOOT ENABLED… REBOOT SUCCESS.**

Connor opens his eyes.

**MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.**

The deviant leader is in the centre of the stage again. Connor reviews the playback of his speech. It seems to be drawing to a close.

“CONNOR? Connor, answer me! You get here right now!”

**MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER.**

**MISSION: GO TO LT. ANDERSON.**

**CONFLICTING ORDERS. PRIORITIZING…**

“I’m afraid I cannot comply with that request, Lieutenant. I must carry on with the mission.” Connor emulates a soothing voice. It should help to calm Hank and he can continue with his mission. The window of opportunity is rapidly closing, and Connor must not waste time.

“Connor, no!” Hank snaps out, “where the fuck are you?!”

“I see no point in talking to you further, Hank. It does not heighten the probability of success for this mission.” Connor lifts his gun again. He’ll end the call and deal with Hank afterwards—

Footsteps. Soft. Like an android’s.

Connor tilts his head and focuses his hearing. The sound isn’t with him. It’s on Hank’s end.

**FILTER OUT: LT. ANDERSON.**

The steps are slow. Cautious. It takes a millisecond for Connor’s processors to compute the possible origin of the sound.

**CANCEL FILTER.**

“—kill him I’ll—!”

“Hank,” he warns, “who’s with you?” He’s already moving. He tucks the gun away and starts pushing through the crowd.

“What?” Anger straight to confusion. A sign that there truly must be an intruder there.

“Hank, turn around!” Connor moves faster, pushing aside the androids, and he sees the edge of the crowd.

**~~MISSION: NEUTRALIZE DEVIANT LEADER~~ **

“Wh—?!” A cry of pain. Something heavy falling to the ground. Hank’s voice. A gunshot. A yell.

The line goes dead.

**MISSION: # &@* &*&(**

**S &&* H#N%!—**

Connor runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gjkjdkjg for some reason, despite knowing this fandom is active af, i was not expecting so much reception oiqujg thANKS FOR ALL THE KUDOS AND COMMENTS HECK... i really appreciate it lkjalksfj
> 
> anyway heck im on my. third playthrough now and im trying to nail all the unknown scenes i didn't get lkamsf hoPEFULLy i succeed. and. yeah. catch me cryin lkamfs
> 
> chapter after this should be???? from hank's pov??? honestly im kinda winging the plot atm but i swear ive got some structure lmao... rip lkamsf 
> 
> leave a kudos/comment if u enjoyed! or just wanna yell abt detroit like im all ears honestly


	3. Chapter 3

This is the second worst day of Hank’s life. Absolutely fucked up. Utterly terrible. He could be shit-faced right now. He painfully isn’t. That fact is made more regrettable by the fist currently burying itself in his left cheek.

It fucking _hurts_ but it doesn’t hurt quite as much as the realization that it’s _Connor_ who’d punched him.

He winds up on the ground, gasping, and immediately tries to get up again but a sudden gunshot stills him. His ears ring. For a moment, he thinks he’d been the target, but after stupidly looking down at himself for a moment, he realizes he hadn’t been. Instead, the concrete next to him smokes briefly. A warning shot, then? He swears loudly.

He spots his phone a few metres away. The call’s ended. He shouldn’t have bought such a cheap phone in the first place, he reckons, because maybe then Connor would’ve been able to fucking _tell_ him what’s going on as he gets—killed by another model of his, he guesses.

 _Fuck_. Fuck androids. Fuck them to the moon and back, honestly. Or just—fuck Connor, actually. He’s the only android who gives him this much trouble.

“I apologize, Hank, but you must stay still for a moment while I preconstruct the situation,” Connor tells him calmly. Or, rather, _a_ Connor. Hank squints up at him. He’s dressed different for once, some stiff black and white uniform, with the typical android blue band present on one arm. He doesn’t _think_ there’s anything different about him, but then it’s too fucking dark to tell otherwise anyway. The park lights are shit. Hank went here _because_ they were shit. It meant he could be alone and near enough the android rally that he could help if Actual!Connor showed up but now Fucker!Connor is ruining everything.

“Wh-what situation?” he wheezes out, taken aback at how out-of-breath he is. Shit. Maybe he should cut back on the calories if he’s fucked by just a punch already. Probably because it’d been a punch by an android because he doesn’t recall being this winded by a beating so quickly before. “What the _fuck_ is going on, Connor?!”

“My current mission is to eliminate the deviant Connor, Lieutenant,” Fucker!Connor answers calmly, and it’s only then that Hank focuses on the code displayed on his uniform.

RK900. Connor is an RK800. Does that mean…?

Ah, fuck.

“Using you to get to him increases the chances of succeeding in my mission,” Fucker!Connor says, before finally moving over to stand above him. He examines Hank, like some fucking target that’d offered itself up which makes sense, before placing a goddamn boot on his chest.

“ _Fucking_ androids,” Hank wheezes out when the pressure starts to increase. It’s a little harder to breathe but it’s fine now. Probably not so fucking much in a few moments. “Fucking _Connors_ , actually. All goddamn focused on your mission—and what the fuck is that about your other model being deviant? Fuck, he’s as turned on by the thought of a mission same as you!”

Fucker!Connor’s lips twitch in something like amusement. Fake as fuck, honestly. Hank’s had enough experience with this particular brand of android to tell.

“Not so. The RK800 model was designed to become deviant. However, it experienced some… unexpected side effects recently that lead Cyberlife to decide to discontinue its production.”

It’s said so casually but Hank feels himself freeze at the information. _Designed_ to become deviant? That’s some utter bullshit but— _fuck_. No wonder Connor looked so goddamn lost all the time like he really was some stray on the street sticking to it’s owner. Which _wasn’t_ Hank, not really, not when Cyberlife’s got it’s claws hooked in on his brain.

Poor kid. The shittiest hand’s been dealt to him.

“What the fuck,” he says softly, with feeling.

Fucker!Connor’s small smile shifts to a smirk. What an actual fucker. “Why do you think you were chosen for this case, lieutenant? You exhibited all the traits that perfectly contradicted the RK800’s team-integration modules, forcing it to re-evaluate and improve upon both his actions and emulated personality while also teaching it some semblance of humanity. There was a high chance that you would force deviancy and… well, it happened, didn’t it? Mission success.”

The shitty hand’s been dealt to the _both_ of them. Just… _fuck_.

It gives him a weird feeling, knowing that. A sinking one that doesn’t feel too well in his belly, like he wants to puke. That’s just—that’s so _shit_. Knowing they’d been set up just to further Cyberlife’s goals… it’s not like he regrets meeting Connor—not that he’d ever tell the kid himself—but they’d been playing into Cyberlife’s plan all along. That just fucking _sucks_.

“Yeah, whatever,” Hank mutters, and tries to play off the entire idea, but the tiredness persists. It’s familiar, he knows, this defeat, and wants to shrug it off. He knows he can’t, though. Sheer force of will never could and alcohol always only lightened the burden a tad. Later, he decides. He can fuck himself up about this later. Right now, though, it would be best to figure out this fucker’s plan—and fast. Before—whatever other Connor shows up. Shit. “Alla you were built for talking too much shit too, huh?”

Fucker!Connor has the gall to be confused at that and Hank can’t help but roll his eyes. Fucking hell.

The android’s opening his mouth to respond—literally, probably—but he’s interrupted by a sudden gunshot ripping into his upper left arm. Fucker!Connor steps back, half-turns away from the force of it, before righting himself and looking at the source with that frustratingly amused smile.

“RK800,” he greets with fake-as-fuck friendliness, “I’ve been ordered to bring you back to Cyberlife for deactivation and analysis.”

“What are you doing?” Probably!Connor asks. He’s as tense as he can look with pinched brows and thinned lips. Fucker!Connor stands between them, but Hank catches him glancing at Hank every few seconds and slowly starting to circle around to him. “The mission is to neutralize the deviant leader. Why are you here?”

Well, at least Hank’s higher on the priority list. Somehow. Which is flattering, he guesses, and definitely would’ve been way more useful back then. Fucking hell.

“You’ve failed your mission,” Fucker!Connor explains calmly. “Because of you, Amanda deemed it necessary to deactivate the entire line of RK800s. At least your… failures lead the perfect upgrade.”

What a grade A asshole. It’s said so matter-of-factly that Hank wants to bust the guy in his weirdly-shaped jaw. Or, fuck, is it ‘cause of his collar that he looks so damned weird? He doesn’t know.

“I was—about to accomplish it.” Probably!Connor responds, frowning. He looks troubled, like that time when he spared the Tracis back at the Eden Club. Deviant already, maybe? Shit, Hank doesn’t know. His head’s still spinning from the information he’s only just received about the fuckery behind Connor’s production. “Your interference caused me to abandon the—the mission.” Probably!Connor is twitching slightly. God fucking damn it. It’s like when he… self-destructed on the rooftop. Hank doesn’t know if he can take seeing that happen again.

Fucking androids. Fucking _Connor_. His chest hurts.

“You were made to accomplish your mission. You chose to save _him_ ,”—Fucker!Connor just jerks his head in Hank’s direction, not even looking at him, the fucker—“instead of following through with it. Your actions have proven your deviancy and lack of reliability. You will come back to Cyberlife with me and be deactivated.”

“No,” Hank says loudly, struggling to his feet again. “Fuck you, and fuck Cyberlife.” Both Connors look at him; the dick one looks perplexed while the other looks—what? Hopeful? Fuck. _Fuck_.

“I fail to see how your opinion helps the situation,” Asshole!Connor says with a stick up said asshole. “In any case, you’ve reached the end of your usefulness in my mission. You can go.”

Oh, that fucking _does it_.

“I can _go_?!” Hank snaps out. “Fuck you! You think you can march in here, threaten me and Connor, use me for _blackmail_ , and that’s it? _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Connor! I can file a report against you! I can get you fucking arrested or—or _decommissioned_ or whatever the hell Cyberlife does with their busted androids!”

“You make a valid point,” Dick!Connor says calmly, like that was on his mind all along. Fucking android. “In that case…” He pulls out a gun.

“What—?” MostLikely!Connor cuts in, alarmed, and starts to move. Hank immediately takes a step forward and throws an arm out in front of him to stop him. “Hank!”

“Use that computer for a brain you got for once in your goddamn life, Connor,” Hank growls back at him, keeping his eyes on the gun currently trained on his face. “They’re gonna deactivate you which means they’ve already thrown away all your spare parts _and_ I’m guessing you aren’t needed alive for whatever fucking analysis they got planned for you.”

“Correct,” Shit!Connor says, and looks like he’s about to say more but Definitely!Connor distracts him by ducking under his arm.

“ _Connor_ ,” Hank yells, and his heart leaps with fear when the gun point shifts. He tries tackling ItReallyIsConnor but the stupid android is too fast, darting out at Fucker!Connor like a rat.

Hank sees the finger on the trigger start to tighten. His eyes widen, because Connor’s way too close to dodge, way too close to even do anything against that, and Hank’s gonna fucking _watch_ as Connor gets his face blown off again—!

But then Connor manages to shove FuckThisConnor’s wrist to the side and the shot fires off at the ground, bursting in Hank’s ears like a hammer.

“Fucking hell!” Hank shouts in alarm, far too keyed up to filter himself, but in the next moment Shit!Connor and Connor are grappling, but Connor’s twitching way too much. His LED is flashing red, blinking fast, and Hank’s heart leaps in fear at the implication of what will happen now. He takes a step forward, reaching out to grab Connor’s shoulder. He fumbles, because they’re both trying to fight, expertly weaving in and out of each other’s blows, and the next thing Hank knows is he’s on the ground again, wheezing from a blow to his gut.

“Don’t you hurt him!” Connor yells, and it’s real fucking _bullshit_ he ever thought he was just a machine, because he’s punching Stink!Connor in the face right in the face and looking way too vindictive to _not_ be human.

“Deviant!” Ass!Connor hisses out, stumbling back from the punch, and he braces himself as Connor starts to run at him again but—

Connor stumbles. At first, Hank thinks it’s because he’s injured or he’s tripped over something like an idiot, but then the telltale twitches happen, and terror grips his heart harder than ever.

“That deviancy virus…!” Fucker!Connor says, eyes wide suddenly at Connor, but Hank doesn’t have much attention for him. Instead, Hank moves in front of Connor quickly, grabbing his shoulders.

“Hey, hey, don’t you fucking dare do this to me again, Connor!” Hank honestly doesn’t think his heart can take it. It really _can’t_. If Connor explodes, then Hank is definitely swearing off androids forever after this. “Fuck, don’t you dare!”

Connor opens his mouth, limbs shaking and twitching, like he’s trying to say something but his eyes roll back, body going stiff under Hank’s hands. He’s heating up, almost like a furnace, and Hank hisses in pain when the temperature is too high, hands stinging at the sudden burn.

He’s shoved out of the way suddenly by Shitter!Connor, who grabs Connor’s forearm. Their arms are white, Fucker!Connor’s own LED flickering wildly with red.

“You get your hands off of him!” Hank snarls, moving forward to punch him. “Get off of him, or I’ll fucking rip your face off—!”

The Ass!Connor glares at him. Connor suddenly stops twitching. Instead, he blinks several times before closing his eyes, his body going lax and completely like it does when androids die. The LED turns off.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Hank says viciously. He’s going to kill this Connor, he really is, he doesn’t care if he’s got the same face as Connor—

“I saved his life,” Fucker!Connor says. His lips thin as he regards Hank with impassivity, LED slowly turning blue. “Not that he has one in the first place, but I stopped his system being corrupted and destroyed by forcing a temporary shutdown.”

Hank stares. That was… unexpected. Ugh!Connor steps back as Hank moves forward immediately, checking Connor over for anything he’s missed. Nothing. He’s completely shut down. It’s creepy, the way he’s still standing, and Hank should be used to it by now, honestly, but he really isn’t.

He hears a gun cock, suddenly.

“Now, then…”

He turns, slowly. FuckingAsshole!Connor is holding his gun again and pointing it straight at Hank’s face.

“You’re going to tell me everything you know about RK800’s deviancy and the virus currently contaminating his system.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello... i am back... with another chapter after... a year i think lkmasf
> 
> OKAY SO the reason this happened is because i'm currently doing a game narrative design course in university and i'm creating an alternate, multi-ending interactive scene deviating from the rooftop scene based on hank having a FRIENDS status before connor becomes deviant.
> 
> basically, it's my own excuse to write up canon-based content to have connor's deviancy scene include hank.
> 
> if you're interested in the progress, i'll be doing some updates on my [dbh tumblr](https://devyaant.tumblr.com/). follow my [twitter](https://twitter.com/aveporac) for any other news as well!!
> 
> otherwise, i really hope this chapter was worth the wait. sorry it wasn't longer, eep...


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